Turian Dreams
by dantesdarkqueen
Summary: The galaxy has been saved. Relief and joy suffuse all, save for one turian keeping watch over the woman responsible for their victory. "She will wake up. She has to."
1. Turian Dreams

**Summary:** The galaxy has been saved. Relief and joy suffuse all, save for one turian keeping watch over the woman responsible for their victory. "She will wake up. She _has_ to."

**Disclaimer: **I don't own shit.

**Queen's Quornor: **You would think, after fighting to update all of my various in-progress stories in the Dragon Age, Final Fantasy VII, Dynasty Warriors, and Devil May Cry fandoms with limited success due to a creativity-sapping job, I wouldn't have the heart to put myself through the wringer and pump out yet another fic, even a oneshot, at the moment. Apparently, my muses beg to differ. I don't know how to explain this, exactly. Pretty much from the moment I paid any attention to the Mass Effect games, Garrus has had practically all of it. He's such a freakin' cool character, and I can't think of many conversations with him that don't make me laugh at some point. Plus, that romance with him is so sweet and steamy it should be illegal, even without any of the rolling-around-in-the-sheets action you get with Kaiden and Liara. The farewell scene with him in ME3 really got me, especially considering the odds of survival (and I know they can't have kids together, but what _would _a turian-human baby look like? Probably a little something like a turian-quarian baby, seeing as how Tali appears pretty human without her suit). So, I started thinking. On the off-chance that Shepard survived that final battle, and was somehow retrieved from the ruins of the Citadel, how would such an event affect her deeply emotional boyfriend? My guess is that he would not leave her side until she either woke up or flat-lined. After that... I don't know. Garrus doesn't really seem the type to off himself in despair, but then again, we haven't exactly seen him in utter despair. He gets mad in his grief for his squad because somebody was responsible for their deaths; what if the responsible party was already dead, and his emotional attachment was soul-deep? I'm not exploring that scenerio here, but I bet he wouldn't put the gun to his own head. He'd probably throw himself back at Omega, and try to go down in as big a blaze of glory as he could, hoping to meet his Shepard at that heavenly bar.

Turian Dreams

He hated heart-rate monitors.

The steady _beep-beep-beep _of the infernal machine was a crucible in its own right, capable of breaking a man in despair and worry or empowering him with hope and anticipation. It meant that the person attached to it was still alive, could awaken at any time. But it also meant that if something happened, any observers would know the person whose heartbeat was being recorded was in the direst of straits, and more often than not they were totally helpless to retrive them from the brink.

That was the worst feeling of all, knowing that he was incapable of doing anything to help her come back. All the times he had saved her life with a well-placed shot or a desperate shove into cover, and all he could do now was sit and watch her fight for every breath. It was horribly ironic to think that she had just saved the entire galaxy from annihilation, and not one of the doctors in this damned hospital could do a thing to return the favor for her.

Garrus had not been the one to find her. Wrex and Liara had led a team of volunteers to the ruins of the Citadel, in an attempt to recover any survivors. They had found a few, aside from the eternal prescence of the Keepers. But ultimately, the expedition had been an effort to figure out what had happened. What had caused the Reapers to break off the attack? What had made them flee, when they had the best opportunity to obliviate the galaxy's defenders? Everyone had known the answer was with the woman who had brought them all together; thus, the goal had been to locate her and get some answers. Of course, everyone on that team would have gone just for the chance to bring her home, to silence the multitude of unknowns gnawing at their minds concerning her well-being. Garrus had jumped at the chance to go up there, almost out of his mind with worry, but he had not found her. Urz, the varren she had adopted as a sort of scaly watchdog, had found the forsaken shells of both Anderson and the Illusive Man. From there, Liara had spotted the secret chamber high above their bodies.

Samara had found Shepard.

Garrus had been with Kaiden and Kasumi in the ruins of the Zakera Ward when the call went out that she had been found. He had nearly killed himself trying to get to the airlock connected to their ship, and been greeted with the sight of Wrex emerging from the ruins, with Shepard held securely in his arms. His obvious strength had been a heartbreaking contrast to her unexpected frailty, so much so that Garrus had been partially blind to exactly how bad her wounds were. It had not been until she was in the hospital, being borne away on a gurney, that the full impact of her injuries had hit him.

She had sustained second and third degree burns across most of her exposed flesh, and some of her armor had been melted into her skin. Most of her hair, that gleaming silver fall that he had loved to run his talons through, had been scorched away in the blast that had killed the rest of her squad in the final rush to the Conduit. Her left femur had sustained a compound fracture, and two of the fingers on her right hand had been blown off. Those were only the visible components of the damage she had taken, and Garrus knew that there was more. He had read the datapad cataloguing her injuries; he preferred not to think about the hits her internal workings had taken. All he let himself acknowledge was that a great deal of surgery had taken place immediately after her admission to the hospital, and she was currently plugged into that damned heart-rate monitor. The infernal machine, and the slight rise and fall of her chest with every successful breath, were the only signs that she still clung to life.

The doctors had not been sure what to do with him. Most of them had dealt exclusively with humans, being planet-based personnel rather than Alliance physicians. Having a turian pacing the length of the waiting room, in full combat gear, was not a scenerio any of them had likely considered during their stint in medical school. They had all been too nervous to ask why he was there, until Kaiden had thought to take one of the nurses aside and explain his prescence. From then on, Garrus had been allowed to stay in Shepard's room, most likely because it kept him relatively calm and out of sight. Being near her helped ease his worries, although it did not alieviate all of them. He would not be able to stop fretting until she opened those bright green eyes of hers, met his gaze, and gave him that sly grin that always had his gut twisting with anticipation.

It was already the third day, and she had yet to come out of her coma.

Garrus sat by her bedside, a datapad laying forgotten on the floor next to his chair. He was supposed to be reading over the figures, estimates of the surviving turians from the initial attack to take back Earth, and attempting to come up with a way to provide for them all until the Primarch, Hackett, and various other leaders could come up with a way to get everyone home, now that the mass relays were destroyed. His attention was not on his people, not at the moment. All he could concentrate on was his lover.

Everybody knew her as Commander Shepard, the Hero of the Citadel, Humanity's first Spectre, Conqueror of the Collectors, the Great Diplomat, etc, etc. But to him, she was only Julia. His best friend, leader, and the woman he loved. His eyes roamed across her inert body, cataloguing all the bandages and casts, the pads of white gauze soaked with medi-gel. So much damage, and she had still kept going. That was just like her - Julia had always been the most stubborn human he had ever known, when she had cause to be. Her survival story far outclassed his, as far as he was concerned. He had taken a rocket to the face, but she had survived a near-direct hit from Harbinger's beam due to sheer willpower. By all rights, she should have died mere feet from the Conduit. _But she hadn't._ If that did not speak volumes about how extraordinary a person she was, Garrus had no idea what would.

His gaze fell upon her face, to the faint traces of blue clinging tenaciously to her nose and cheekbones, and something in his chest tightened. Julia had shocked him when she had gone out to the shuttle, during the inital push to meet the Resistance; she had been wearing the Vakarian clan markings, or rather as close to them as she could get without suddenly turning into a turian. In response to his stunned inquiry about why she would wear his markings to retake her homeworld, she had told him that he was as much her world as Earth was. That aside, she had been trying to get everyone to work together ever since this whole mess with the Reapers began. What better way to show her attitude towards unity, she had explained, than wearing the clan markings of the turian she loved?

He had not had a chance to explain to her what the taking of his markings would mean among turians, whether she had done them herself or allowed him to apply them, as tradition dictated. In hindsight, he knew it was most likely a pointless explanation. Julia had been very thorough in her studies of his people, particularly of their customs and social traditions. Likely, she knew full well that donning his markings would be a symbolic binding of herself to him. All they needed was a ceremony, and they would be...

Garrus closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. She had known. That was precisely why she had done it. There had not been time for anything more formal, so she had improvised. Julia had probably enjoyed every stunned look she had gotten from every turian she had passed on her way to see him. She had never been ashamed of their relationship. Neither had he, of course, but he had not expected her to be so obvious about it. There was nothing he could have done to express the sentiment himself, since the human method of expressing a lifetime commitment involved the exchanging of rings in a ceremony that could range from quick and simple to tediously long and extravegant. Turians had no use for rings. Even if they did, the jewelry would have interfered with his sniping, since he would not have had time to get used to the weight, miniscule though it would be. That aside, going out and getting a ring for himself was the epitome of ridiculousness; according to the vids and articles, the piece had to be half of a matched set, with its partner resting on the hand of his chosen mate. Julia didn't wear rings, either. Necklaces and earrings, but not rings.

Did they really need a ceremony to express what they already knew? He pondered the question, gazing at the intact fingers of her left hand resting atop the sheet. Specifically, the fourth finger from the right, where the ring was supposed to go. It was not uncommon among humans to live together as mates without actually undergoing the marriage ritual, although such partnerships were often temporary arrangements, a sort of testing of the waters until one or both of the cohabitants decided this was not working out, and they needed to see other people. Turians did not have anything quite like it, aside from the relieving of stress or mutually beneficial arrangements. His people had two catagories for a male and a female who cared for each other and enjoyed expressing it physically: casual, and mated. There was no catagory for all-but-mated-serious-but-technically-casual. The partners either were mated, or merely satisfying their needs with a comfortable friend without expectations. According to the turian mindset, he and Julia fell into the latter. In Garrus' mind, however, they were as good as mated already. They had even discussed children a few times, before his half-joking comment about seeing what a turian/human baby would look like. Casual partners did not discuss offspring.

His gaze slid to the lower half of her abdomen, concealed by the sheet and, beneath that, layers of gelled bandages. Julia had taken a serious hit to her gut, saved only by some timely application of medigel that sealed the flesh around the shrapnel, but the datapad had said her reproductive capabilities were undamaged. Whatever else she could or could not do now, she could still bear children. Perhaps it was a stretch to think that it might be _his _children, with their differing amino bases, but the idea was a much-cherished one he had entertained for several weeks now. He had started thinking about children when the genophage had been cured, and Wrex had been practically dancing with thoughts of all the little krogan he would be siring in the very near future. Garrus had seen the look in Julia's eyes when she caught one of the golden snowflakes raining from Tuchanka's sky, the hope so long denied the krogan. He had seen the joy for her friends, both old and new, as well as the satisfaction of righting a wrong committed long before her people had ever left Earth. But there was also a new emotion, one that had swiftly flitted across her face and been gone in the blink of an eye. It had been a touch of melancholy, mixed with wistful jealousy. At the time, Garrus had not known what to think about it. But he had seen the same look on the Citadel a few weeks later, when they had been on their way back to the _Normandy _and passed by a turian saying good-bye to his asari mate. The departing soldier had told his tearful mate to take care of their daughters, and Garrus had spotted the same expression on Julia's face. It was then that he realized, she wanted children. However much of herself she had given to the military and the galaxy at large, she still carried the wish to contribute to its genetic future.

They had spoken at length about children several days after their shooting match atop the Presidium, during the quiet periods between making love and sleeping. Julia had confirmed what he already knew, and he had confessed his desire to raise a family with her. Like all female Alliance members, Julia was taking contraceptive pills to prevent any unexpected pregnancies during her time of service; trying for a baby while working to save the galaxy was absolute foolishness, both of them knew that. But it hadn't stopped them from dreaming of future sons and daughters, both human and turian. She had been the one to bring up the idea of using a surrogate to bear his children, and a sperm donor for hers. Garrus knew the odds of ever getting her pregnant himself, but something in him rebelled violently at the idea of another man's seed quickening life inside her. More than likely, she would ask Kaiden to be the donor, if the possibility arose. It would all be done clinically, of course. Kaiden would never be with her the way Garrus had. The turian in him could appreciate the potential results of such a pairing, the strength of one of the galaxy's greatest leaders and soldiers combined with the power of a biotic. But his heart raged all the same, just as it had when they discussed the need for a turian surrogate mother for his children.

If only they could have their own children, together, he thought. They would be the strongest, smartest, most loved children in the whole damned universe.

"She's still not up?"

The familiar voice brought Garrus' head up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. As it was, he rubbed at the back of his neck and shook his head before looking at the speaker again, wondering if his exhaustion was finally getting to him. He had to be hallucinating.

But when he looked again, his father was still standing in the doorway, regarding him with unreadable crimson eyes.

"You are the last person I ever expected to walk through that door," he finally replied, regarding his father coolly.

"Well, I never expected you to be keeping a vigil over a human." Cato Vakarian stepped into the room, allowing the door to hiss shut behind him. Garrus watched his father assess everything, from the placement of Julia's bed against the wall to the small distance between her and his rebellious son. The elder turian gave no outward sign of his thoughts on Garrus' obvious attachment to the human in question. He merely leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, gazing upon them. "She is special to you, is she not?"

"What was your first clue?" Adult as he was, a few minute vestiges of his contrary adolescent years still managed to find purchase whenever his father was around. He respected him, but a tiny part of him still enjoyed needling the greatest authority figure he had ever known.

True to form, Cato did not rise to the bait. He merely regarded his firstborn patiently, with his perfected "cop face." That blank, slightly bored stare that meant he was listening, but withholding judgement until the subject of his scrutiny was good and finished. Garrus did not like that expression, having been on the receiving end more than a few times as a boy, but he had to admit that it was highly effective. He had gotten more willing admissions and information during monitored interrogations after adopting his father's cop face than he ever had with veiled threats of bodily harm.

Even wise to the trick, he was unable to stop himself from telling his father the real reason he was here.

"Commander Shepard and I are more than an officer and her soldier," he admitted. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, calming himself. "We are...involved." He snuck a peek at his father, wondering if his father, the epitome of a proper turian, would react to the news.

He should have known there would be no discernable reaction. Cato was far too controlled for that. "How deeply?" he rumbled.

"Intimately."

There was silence from the other side of the room. Garrus had the sudden urge to scoot his chair closer to Julia's side and take her undamaged hand, to draw his father's attention to the faint remnants of her self-applied clan markings. He stifled it, but only just. At last, Cato spoke.

"I suppose this means your sister's latest scheme to get you mated will come to naught."

Surprised by the statement, Garrus lifted his head in time to see a little smirk grace his father's motionless countenance. "Come again?"

Cato settled himself against the wall a little more comfortably, his crimson eyes dancing with mirth. "Solanna seems to think that one of her fellow scouts, Renita Orvellius, would be the perfect match for her single older brother. Renita is from a respectable family, fairly attractive, and very skilled at close-quarters takedowns rather than long-range sharpshooting. Your sister was certain that sparks would fly if the two of you met. She demanded that I bring her to your attention when I visited, and show you her picture."

The younger Vakarian sighed and shook his head. Solanna had been trying to set him up with various individuals in her social circle for years, even before he had left to join C-Sec. Each time, she had been convinced that she had found his perfect mate. Each time, he had, metaphorically speaking, shot her down. "I supposed you can tell her that it's pointless to try, now that I'm taken."

"I doubt that will do any good. She will never believe that you have bound yourself to a human, let alone your commanding officer." Cato's mask finally slipped, and a quiet burst of laughter made its way into the room. "If anything, she will likely try harder to find your perfect turian mate. Try and make you a productive member of the gene pool and all that."

That was a distinct possibility, one that made Garrus' gut knot. Solanna had never been as accepting of humans as he was, although for the life of him he could not figure out why. The only contact she had with the Alliance had been during her enlistment period, and it had been cordial. She had never fought a human, and had been born long after Shanxi. Whatever she had against Julia's species, it meant that contact between the two females would be forever strained. Pushing his little sister's racism into the mental box marked "Much Later," Garrus looked back to his father.

"Would it help if I said she was not welcome to try, and her efforts are greatly unappreciated?"

"She would just interpret it as a challenge."

Silence fell, a more comfortable one than usual. Garrus found himself slightly grateful towards the beeping monitor; he could pretend that Julia was listening, and lending him her support. Normally any time spent with his father was strangled with tension, as both parent and son tried to ignore the fact that he was not the proper turian Cato wished him to be. This was different, more like Cato understood what he was going through and wanted him to know that he did.

Of course, he did understand. Garrus knew that since his mother had gotten sick, a great deal of his father's time had been spent sitting in hospital rooms by her side, unsure of what would happen to her next or whether she would even remember her husband and children. If ever he had doubted his father's love and devotion to his mate, the certainty had been restored the very first time he had walked in on one of Cato's bedside vigils.

"I'm surprised that she even has time to consider another potential match for me. I wasn't sure if she'd be traumatized by the Reaper invasion or not." At least Solanna had finally seen the reason behind his leaving C-Sec behind to go zooming around the galaxy aboard a semi-rogue human vessel. All those messages scolding him for his actions had been worth it to receive his little sister's heartfelt apology, after she and their father had finally made it off Palaven.

"Your sister is made of stronger stuff than that. She's a Vakarian, after all." Cato nodded towards Julia. "Seems you found a worthwhile candidate to join the family, unless humans habitually don war paint in this day and age."

"I didn't do that for her. She did it herself before we threw ourselves at the Reapers in London. It she had asked, though, I would have mixed the paint myself."

"I thought as much."

Garrus looked at his father, a little stunned but thoroughly pleased that Cato had yet to say anything negative concerning his choice of mate. By now, there would normally be a first class row going between them. There certainly had been the first and only time he had brought a girl home to meet his parents. Cato had disapproved of the girl's familial ties. Garrus had been young, dumb, and absolutely convinced that dating her was the one thing he wanted from life. He would never admit it now, of course, but he was secretly grateful that his father had bodily thrown that girl out the front door. He had seen what happened to the poor sap who had mated her. "I hate to spoil the moment, but... You _are_ aware that your son, who has been a constant source of disappointment and exasperation for you, has pretty much bound himself to his commanding officer, who happens to be not only a human, but also a Spectre who keeps falling in and out of grace with the Council?"

The elder Vakarian snorted. "Give me a few hours. I don't think the idea has sunk in yet." His scarlet eyes met his son's brilliant azure gaze, and he nodded slightly. "The truth is, I did some thinking while I was trapped on that shuttle with your sister, fleeing those damned Reapers. I always thought there was only one way to accomplish something, that going by the book was always the correct solution. But when you came to me, and started telling me all these insane, unbelievable things you had seen and experienced during your time on the _Normandy_, it shook me."

"What do you mean?" Garrus prompted when his father paused.

"I didn't want to believe you." Cato scratched at the back of his neck, then met his son's curious stare again. "I wanted to think that you had gone crazy, that none of what had happened could possibly be real, since no credible sources could verify them. It was much easier to accept that than the truth. But you laid out one hell of a convincing argument. From Saren to Sovereign, the Beacon to the Collectors, it all made sense. Too much sense for me to simply pass it off as hallucinations brought on by spending too much time around humans or something like that. But I didn't want to think that some ancient threat from beyond the galaxy was lurking out there, just waiting to wipe us all out.

"Still, I decided to go along with it. Partially because I understood the danger," he clarified, raising one talon to cut off Garrus' protest, "but also because I wanted to see how you would handle it. It was the perfect test to see exactly how much of you came from your mother, and how much you got from me. You have always done your own thing, no matter what you had to do for it. That came from your mother."

"You always did say that Mom was a total spitfire when you two were dating," Garrus interrupted with a grin.

Cato chuckled, returning the smile. "When I saw you with your task group, I realized that I had misjudged you. You got things done that really shouldn't have been possible, given the miniscule amount of resources allocated to you. But you managed to win and keep the respect of your men, like a true leader. Even got the admiration of several individuals higher up the chain, if what I've heard is true. That's when I realized that you aren't a bad turian. You are unorthodox, that's undeniable. but at your core you are still a good turian. You just have a better head on your shoulders than a lot of us do, myself included. I think you got that from your mother, as well."

Garrus fell silent, trying to wrap his head around what he had just heard. His entire life, the thing he had wanted the most was his father's approval. He had pushed himself to the limit in school and training, just to hear the words "I'm proud of you" rumble from the older male's throat. He had always done his own thing, that was true, but his hope had been to open his father's eyes, to show him that there was more than one way to accomplish a goal. His mother had always praised him for his accomplishments, especially the unorthodox ones; Cato had never truly shown his favor for anything he had done, which has only made him work all the harder for it.

To hear his father say, in his own long-winded way, that he was proud of what he had done these past few years...

"I didn't do it all for you this time, Dad," he murmured. "At first it was because all the red tape at C-Sec was driving me crazy. But when Julia found me again, and got me to rejoin her crew, I realized I wanted to do it for her." For that gleam in her jade eyes when he opened fire, that sheen of mingled amazement and exhilaration coupled with a sudden competitive flare. For the wide grin that would split her ripe black lips, and her joyful, half-crazed shout before she turned their firefight into a competition. Long before he had fallen in love with her, the best sight he had ever known had been her gracefully swinging out of cover with her assault rifle screaming, mowing down their opposition with nothing short of jubilation while her kill-count soared.

That sight had brought him back from the brink of the abyss on Omega, when he had looked into his scope and seen her dancing in and out of cover, silver hair flying and guns blazing. The old, much-loved grin had convinced him that she was no hallucination brought on by more than two days of running, fighting, and killing. Her excited whoop, sounded when she had split the skull of a merc with a sniper rifle, had sent fresh adrenaline surging through his veins. Her love of a good fight rekindled his own, keeping him alive when by all rights he should have died in that base. His last thought before slipping into unconsciousness, after the right side of his face had been permanently altered by that missile, had been _I can't die now. We still haven't figured out who the best shot is_.

Then had come the quiet conversations in the main battery, the late nights when neither had been able to find sleep. She would always peek her head through the doors, unsure whether he was in his cot or not, and when he waved her over to sit beside him she would favor him with a smile, almost as wide as the one she wore in battle but without the teeth. Those had been the hours when they talked of small things: the few memories she had of her parents, the years she had spent as a member of the Crimson Renegades, her love and hate for the city of Detroit and the gang she had called a family. He remembered the wistful, gentle envy in her eyes when he would regale her with stories of his life on Palaven, of his training and old missions, and the antics and fights he had shared with his sister. Julia had never had a sister. Her parents had been killed when she was six, caught in the crossfire between the Renegades and a rival gang. She had once confided that her parents were thinking about another child before their deaths, and she had always wondered what it would have been like to be a big sister. Garrus had countered that it was fun, but being the older sibling was usually a total pain. That always made her laugh.

He could not pinpoint the exact moment the dynamic of their relationship had changed, the moment he had realized that his feelings were no longer those of a friend and comrade-in-arms. But he could not think back to those late-night exchanges, to firefights spent calling out numbers of kills and headshots, without feeling the warmth spread throughout his chest. Somewhere in the midst of talking, competing, and saving the galaxy multiple times he had fallen for her, hard.

That realization had not hit until he had woken up beside her, with her smooth curves pressed against his side and the scent of her sweat and shampoo tickling his nose. After their first night together he had just lain there when awareness drifted back, and finally understood that in gaining his friendship, she had also managed to earn his love. Garrus had worried that he was the only one to feel that way, but his fears had been dashed when she raised her head and gave him a soft look, a gentle smile he had never seen her wear before. Her arms had crept around him, a mute question in her eyes, and he had crushed her to him, letting her know that this was far more than stress relief to him. That may have been the original intent, but somewhere along the way it had become much more serious, far deeper than that.

That had been the instant his father's approval ceased to matter, because hers was the only opinion he truly cared to know.

Garrus recalled that he had been a mess when she had been confined to Earth. Outwardly he had been able to control himself, but in private nothing had prevented him from worrying that he would never see her again, that the Alliance would hand her over to the batarians for destroying so many lives. He had been the only one she had told aboard the _Normandy_. Julia had called him to her cabin, saying that she wanted to speak with him, and then curled her knees against her chest and leaned against him on the couch when he arrived. She had explained, in a rough voice choked with unshed tears, what had happened during those two excruciating days of radio silence. He had listened as she told him about her rescue of Dr. Kenson, the Project, the doctor's indoctrination and betrayal, and of how damn close they had come to having a front-row seat to the Reapers' arrival. She had not asked for pity, nor forgiveness. All she had wanted was to explain, to let him know the calibur of the woman he was dating.

It still had not made him turn away.

Now she was laying in a coma, slathered in medigel and covered in bandages, while scientists in the lab on the second floor regrew her missing fingers. Julia had sacrificed everything to save the galaxy, but she had somehow held on long enough for someone to find her and bring her back to a hospital. Garrus could keenly recall the sheer panic that had enveloped him when one of the nurses confided that she had flatlined on the operating table, and the profound weakness in his limbs when that same nurse had hastened to tell him that they had successfully rescusitated her. The soldier in him always knew the chances of seeing her die in front of his eyes, and accepted it as a necessary risk; the part of him that had allowed him to step beyond the conflict and become her boyfriend still clung to the hope that they would somehow manage to grow old and gray together.

"Is it like this with you and Mom?" The words spilled from his mouth unsummoned, so quietly he was almost unaware that he had spoken. He was so intent on the continued rise and fall of Julia's chest that his surprise was total when his father's hand landed on his shoulder, the pressure an unexpected comfort to his tired mind.

"I'm not sure you can compare your situation to ours, son. Your mother is awake, but she has trouble remembering who I am some days. There are times when she can barely recall who she is, let alone that she has a husband and children who love her. But at least I can look at her and know that she's alive, and that there's a chance she will remember in the next hour or so. The new medicines are starting to help with that. But..." Cato's hand squeezed a bit tighter. "This is somehow worse."

"You're damn right it's worse." Garrus felt the rawness in his voice, the sudden vice his vocal cords had become. There was no outlet for his pain other than his words. "The doctors said she took a nasty blow to her head. Even if she does wake up, there's no guarantee she'll remember anything. She might forget all about the Reapers, her position as Commander, every little thing she's done and said these past few years. The memories might have gaps, where she can remember bits and pieces but not how they connect. Or..." He choked, unable to say it.

"Or she might remember everything, save what you mean to her," Cato finished softly.

The younger turian slumped forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. That was his greatest fear. Knowing she had died once was bad enough, especially since he had watched her run past the escape pods on the original _Normandy_, on her way to drag Joker from the pilot's chair; he had thought she made it to the last pod, and being told otherwise had left him a living version of the walking dead for weeks afterward. This time, if she died, the countdown to his own end would start ticking. But worse was the idea that she could pull through this, beat the odds yet again, only to look at him with a blank expression in her brilliant emerald eyes. He was not sure what he would do if her memories of him, and the love they shared, had been lost.

"You know, if that does occur, it does not mean you have lost her."

Garrus managed to tear his gaze away from his lover, staring askance at his father. "What do you mean?"

The look in Cato's eyes was one of complete understanding, and sympathy. "If she has forgotten why she loves you, you'll just have to make her fall in love with you all over again."

"Dad, I have no idea how it happened in the first place. What am I supposed to do? Find a couple thousand mercs and make her blaze her way through them beside me?"

"I don't think this happened in the middle of a firefight, son."

"Fine. I'll resurrect the Reapers, the Collectors, and Saren and make her save the whole damn galaxy all over again. 'Cause I'm pretty sure that may have had something to do with our relationship."

Cato sighed. "There's no need to be difficult. Besides, I don't believe you fell in love with each other based solely on combat performance. If that had been the case, you would have mated one of your collegues years ago."

"True enough. But watching her six did have something to do with getting her to come talk to me in the first place." That was not entirely true, but his father did not need to know that. Julia had decided to come chat with him after realizing how great a shot he was. Their first friendly conversation had consisted of stories of impossible shots they had both nailed, their favorite guns, and their sniper training. She was not a pure sniper, but of all the guns she had been trained to use, the rifles were her favorites.

"You know, you _could _talk to her instead of waiting for her to come to you," his father pointed out.

Reasonable enough, but every time he had gone to her instead of the usual, they had wound up in bed. Garrus' mind paused at that realization. When had they decided that Julia in his space meant conversation, but Garrus in Julia's space was only for sex? That would have to be remedied, once she snapped out of this coma.

She would wake up. She _had_ to. She was Commander Julia Fuckin' Shepard, Spectre Extraordinaire, Savior of the Entire Damned Galaxy. Of anybody left standing, she was the one who deserved to enjoy the peace the absolute most.

And he wanted to do it by her side. His gaze slid back to her bruised, motionless face as he silently acknowledged how very important it was that she come to, for him. He had never truly wanted the domestic sort of bliss; his goals had consisted of making life better for the less fortunate, and kicking the asses of those who were responsible for making people miserable. Fighting crime, destroying the selfish and the evil, protecting those who could not protect themselves - that had been why he had joined C-Sec, not because of his father. That was what had convinced him that joining the _Normandy _was the right choice, and what had driven him to Omega, to become the entity that was Archangel. But somewhere, somehow, those noble aspirations had been overtaken by visions of spending the rest of his life beside Julia, his commander, friend, and lover. All he wanted now, if he was completely honest with himself, was to find a comfortable home somewhere and settle down with her, perhaps even raise a family. He really, _really _was curious about what a turian/human crossbreed child would look like.

"Three fingers, or five?" he wondered aloud.

"Come again?" Garrus jumped slightly; he had forgotten his father was in the room.

Time to lay it all on the table. "Just wondering what our child would look like." He ignored the flabbergasted look on his father's face, the slackened mandibles, and continued with his musings. "I bet it would have my eyes. Julia's are nice, but she's shown me an old picture of her parents. Apparently, blue eyes run on her father's side of the family. It's a recessive trait among humans, only shows up if both parents carry the gene for it. So our kid would probably have blue eyes of some kind. I don't know how many fingers and toes it'll have, though, or what kind of mouth. The best combination would probably be my teeth and her oral structure. Turian mandibles on a human mouth just wouldn't look right, you know? It'll also be interesting to see if it gets hair or a fringe."

"You're really in deep, aren't you?" Cato was looking at him with one of the most intense expressions he had ever seen.

"Yeah, I am." He matched the scarlet gaze, backing it up with the quiet intensity of his emotions for the woman on the bed.

They stared at each other for a time, then Cato smiled. "You never have done quite what I expected you to do, son. It's nice to see that some things have not changed in this crazy new galaxy of ours."

"If you want proof that some things remain the same, you should bring Sol with you next time you visit. I doubt she'll be nearly as happy with this situation as you are."

"I'd rather bring your mother. She'd be thrilled to know that you've found somebody, regardless of whether that female is human or not." The elder Vakarian male sighed. "Her greatest hope was always for you and your sister to find the same happiness and love in a mate that she and I have."

"Even if she doesn't get any grandchildren out of this arrangement?" Garrus could not resist asking.

"She'll just put the screws on Solanna to settle down and fill a house."

"I plan on trying to do just that with Julia."

"I'm certain you are already trying."

The two males gave each other understanding grins, although a part of Garrus wanted to squirm. His father definitely understood; in one of her memory lapses, Vivica had mistaken her son for her husband and remarked on how they should bond soon, lest their families discover that she was carrying. That was not how Garrus had wanted to find out that he had already been on the way before his parents even became mates.

"Well, I should probably let you resume your vigil," Cato finally remarked. "I am certain that the first face she should behold upon awakening is yours, not her future father-in-law."

"Yeah, you don't have enough scars for her liking," Garrus teased.

"Then I suppose she and I will never have more than a cordial relationship. I have better things to do with my face than catch rockets." He made for the door. "I will speak with you later, son." He nodded towards Julia. "Commander Shepard."

Garrus watched his father leave, then dragged his chair even closer to the bed. Carefully he rested his hand atop Julia's, then curled his fingers so they wove between hers to softly grip the flesh of her palm. He thought he felt a flicker of moving muscle beneath the pads of his fingers, but after a moment of breathless anticipation decided he had simply been imagining things. The heart-rate monitor had not registered any changes at all.

"Julia, I have news." The doctors had assured him that she could hear him, in spite of her coma. She was merely unable to reply. "That was my father, in case you haven't guessed. I'd love for you to wake up and let me tell you, so I can see the look on your face, but I suppose I'll just have to spit it out and hear what you think later."

He tightened his grip, feeling a gentle warmth spread throughout his chest. "Your human hell must have frozen over. My father approves of us being together. He _approves._"


	2. The Plans We Make

**Summary:** The galaxy has been saved. Relief and joy suffuse all, save for one turian keeping watch over the woman responsible for their victory. "She will wake up. She _has_ to."

**Disclaimer: **I don't own shit.

**Queen's Quornor:** Contrary to popular understanding, "Turian Dreams" was supposed to be a mere oneshot. In the daze of near-unconsciousness at 4:30 in the morning, however, I neglected to select the Complete tab. I truly was not expecting this many people to favorite/alert this fic; how can I simply let you all down, when you clamor for more of Garrus and Julia? I suppose - she said on a deep exhalation - that I can only attempt to satisfy your desire with another installment. Which is not so much of a problem, except that I am lacking in ideas that are workable with this particular incarnation of Commander Shepard. Which is why I beseech you all to give me your suggestions. I am not inquiring for the ridiculous, or the absurd. I am searching for the mundane, the hopeful. Just little things that every couple would experience, particularly if they originated from severely different cultures and backgrounds. Any suggestions should also, preferably, be a part of a relationship that has been in effect for at least a few months. I am writing post-Reaper scenerios, not jumping throughout the timeline without due cause. Any suggestions which meet these criteria would be much appreciated.

The Plans We Make

If he had not fallen in love with Julia, he might have chosen Tali.

The thought fluttered from his unconscious as he watched the purple-clad quarian across the room, sitting in the other chair. Tali had come to check on Julia's progress, and visit with him. She had also brought a number of datapads to peruse while he updated her on their commander's miniscule muscle twitches, and how optimistic the doctors were about her chances of awakening in a timely manner. She had also brought Liara, which was a surprise, since the asari had been up to her eyeballs in work since the Citadel had been recovered. Apparently it had taken many minutes of gentle, persistent persuasion before Tali had physically dragged her away from her terminal. Liara had managed to snatch a few datapads of her own, and had wedged herself into the corner of the room while she scrolled through them. Garrus thought it was more to keep herself standing than anything, as she could easily have retrieved a chair from one of the other rooms. He could honestly say that he had never seen Liara so exhausted, even after Thessia had been lost and she had drowned herself in work to prevent despair from sinking its claws into her thoughts.

Garrus watched Tali for a minute, skating his gaze over her hooded head, the glowing eyes shielded by violet obscurity, the slender form hidden beneath intricate, swirling cloth and buckles. Yes, in another life he might have chosen her to be his own. As the only other dextro aboard the _Normandy_, it would have made far more sense for them to get together. But things had not worked out that way. He had Julia, and she had the beginning of an attachment to Kaidan. Oh yes, he had seen the growing attraction between Major and Admiral. There had been small glances and tiny, unnecessary touches, gentle presses of hands against shoulders and arms, and once between palms. With peace finally at hand, it appeared inevitable that Tali would act upon whatever it was she had cultivated with Kaidan. He was so addicted to his duty, she would likely have to close the distance.

Although, Garrus amended, there remained a chance that Kaidan would approach the quarian before she gathered her nerves. He had once caught the major browsing a website describing the conditions under which quarians had been known to remove their suits, or at least parts of them. That had been the only time, in Garrus' memory, that he had seen his friend blush. Kaidan still had yet to offer him a reasonable, perfectly innocent reason as to why he had been researching that particular topic.

Although, that was not to say that he had not tried. The last attempt had dissolved into a myriad of stammers and throat-clearing grunts, as he had gone into a tailspin of medical theory and imagined need to remove parts of Tali's suit to clean wounds in the event that she was wounded. Garrus had taken a certain amount of amusement from reminding Kaidan that quarian suits were programmed to lock down around a suit breach, and Tali always made certain that her antibiotic reserves were full.

At least they had the chance to build a future together, he thought with a sigh. His own future remained in doubt, so long as Julia's neurological activity continued to test as minimal.

"You should stop sighing. She is not going to wake up if you are depressed." Tali's purring voice brought him out of his mental hole. He looked up to meet her shrouded gaze across Julia's prone body. Her datapads were balanced upon her knees, and her head was cocked slightly to once side, a very human gesture that she had picked up from Julia. If memory served, the gesture meant she was either playing coy, or she was inquisitive. Previous experience with Tali suggested it was the latter.

"It's hard not to sigh. The doctors have no idea when she's going to wake up, and until she does, I'm stuck in here with her." His own decision, admittedly. He had come far too close to losing her for him to simply leave her alone.

"Nobody is keeping you here, Garrus." Liara sounded a little less collected than normal. Her composure was usually immaculate, unless she was in an extreme emotional state. Trying to put the galaxy back together would be more than enough to fluster even the mighty Shadow Broker.

"Maybe I just don't trust the doctors to put her back together correctly. For all I know, I'll leave to turn in a report, and when I come back she'll have a head full of black hair instead of her old silver mop." Or worse, what if she chose the exact moment he was absent to wake up? He would never forgive himself if his lover came to all by herself, with no one to reassure her. He wanted the first sound she heard to be his voice, not the beeping of that damned heart-rate monitor. He could not bear the thought of his Julia finally opening her eyes, and losing herself in confusion as she tried to process the fact that she was actually alive and none of her adopted family were there to help her.

"She will be fine. You should take some time for yourself, to help keep your head on straight. Or at least take a shower," Liara suggested, wrinkling her nose. "When was the last time you had one, anyway?"

"This morning. If you want me to smell better, then I suggest you bring me a change of clothes, T'Soni. I am not wearing those backless gowns they use for human patients." Some of the braver doctors had already expressed an interest in expanding their knowledge of turian physiology. Whether the interest was clinical or otherwise, he would sooner resurrect the Reapers than wear anything that would expose his ass to curious physicians.

"Of course you wouldn't. Turians do not look very dignified nor intimidating in shapeless dresses." Tali had to be grinning under her mask. Her eyes were tilted at the corners and narrowed, a sure sign that she was trying not to laugh.

"We always look dignified and intimidating. It's something that comes with being the most militant race in the galaxy," he told her, hiding his smile by adjusting the cowl of his armor.

"Oh, I'm sure you look it at all times where people can see you." Tali's voice had taken on that playful note again. "But according to Shepard, there have been a few moments were your dignity has been severely compromised. Something about terrible metaphors involving heat sinks?"

Spirits, he had hoped that little slip of the tongue had not gotten around. He knew Julia and Tali were as close as sisters, but he had not expected his lover to share such...embarrassing missteps from their early relationship. He could not even retaliate, as his only humiliating stories involving Julia had taken place during some very private moments, such as her reaction to him during their first time together. She had not realized that among turians both sexes kept their reproductive equipment internal, although males were capable of making it external under particular circumstances. Garrus would never be able to remember the look on her face without at least a smirk.

Then there was the time Julia had surprised him by sneaking into the men's bathroom late one night, after he had spent the entire afternoon tinkering with the inner workings of the Thannix cannon. She had helped cleanse him of the grease he had acquired in lubricating the mobile portions of the giant gun, and then turned the encounter into something decidedly more intimate under the condition that they both remain as quiet as possible. Their endeavor had become especially perilous when Primarch Victus had wandered into the bathroom and proceeded to shower in the stall next to theirs. There would have been far less potential for disaster, Garrus knew, if the older male had not begun to talk about the war with him once he realized that the only other turian aboard the _Normandy _was also present and - as far as he knew - alone. That interlude had been among the most embarrassing in his memory, as well as one of the _hottest _he had ever experienced. Julia had clung to him so her feet were not in obvious sight, hooking her legs about his thighs and clinging to his cowl, but every single movement she made had nearly undone him, considering how far along they had gotten in achieving mutual pleasure before the Primarch had arrived. Once Victus had finished his shower and left the bathroom, after teasingly chastising him for using so much of the ship's hot water supply, Garrus had spent a good twenty minutes releasing his stress by pounding his beloved, maddening Commander into the tiled wall. All the while, of course, reminding her that they must remain absolutely silent.

He hid his smile, remembering a few other intimate misadventures they had shared, and turned his attention back to Tali. "I'm sure you have a few embarrasing stories floating around yourself. I've seen what our illustrious Shadow Broker has on you. Something about installing, erasing, and reinstalling nerve stimpacks?"

Garrus heard a choked laugh from the corner, even as Tali drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. "And how, pray tell, did you get any sort of data from my suit?" Her eyes had narrowed to mere slits; this was one of those occasions when he was glad the quarian had neglected to bring her shotgun. She was really all too fond of bringing it into a friendly conversation, in his opinion.

"I did not get the data." Liara ducked her head, adopting a very good approximation of an emotionless countenance. Garrus knew better; he could see the crinkling at the corners of her eyes, the twitching of her lips. "The old Broker had it. Shepard found that information while she was perusing his old files, just seeing what he had on her crew."

"Keelah! He knew what I had in my suit?" Tali seemed to realize what she had said a moment too late, considering how wide her glowing eyes suddenly became. "I mean... The data. What I bought. On Illium." She hid her mask behind her hands, shaking her head slowly. "Can we please forget that we ever had this conversation?"

"Not a chance, Tali." Garrus smiled at her, letting her know that he would leave it be. "I think we all have much bigger things to worry about than what you put in that suit of yours."

"On that, we can agree." Her voice lowered a bit, losing the playful note. "Have you stopped having the nightmares yet? I can't get a good night's sleep if I'm by myself anymore. I still keep seeing what would have happened if the Reapers had come to Rannoch."

Garrus shook his head. "I've been too busy for nightmares. Not much room for them when I'm drowning in datapads." He could shrug the bad dreams off; Julia could not. He hoped her comatose mind was free of them, because it was unbearable to think that she might be mired in a dark vision and completely unable to escape it. He could not protect her sleep, as he had on the _Normandy_. Julia had never been able to rest easy unless she was lying in his arms, knowing that he was there to keep away the bad dreams.

He could still remember the first time he had realized she was having trouble sleeping. It had been after the genophage was cured, and Primarch Victus had promised to send aid to Earth when all was ready. Garrus had advised Julia to get some sleep, noting the trouble she was having in merely standing without swaying in place, the black moons beneath her eyes. He had remembered thinking _she looks terrible. Why didn't I notice earlier?_ His concern over her lack of rest had driven him to her loft, where he had heard the quiet moans and whimpers emitting from within. He had found her clutching at the blankets, her face screwed up in horror while her eyes remained shut, her mind lost in the dream. He had immediately gone to her and pulled her into his arms, whispering comforting nonsense into her silver hair and plying the back of her neck with gentle strokes, much the way his mother had soothed him back to sleep when nightmares stalked him as a child. She had gradually relaxed against him, as though bereft of her skeleton, and he had eased her back into the nest of blankets long enough to shed his armor, then join her before the darkness came again. Julia had curled against him, wrapped herself tight around his body, and only quieted when he began carding his talons across her scalp. Garrus was hardly the proudest of men, but what male would not take satisfaction from knowing that his mere presence was enough to ensure a dreamless sleep for his woman? It stirred something primal in him, to know that she trusted him while she was beyond conscious thought. She would never trust any of their companions with such closeness; anyone else would have disturbed her sleep.

Maybe that was why she was taking so long in awakening. Did she know that he was here to guard her? Was her mind still capable of associating him with safety, and healing?

"I had an interesting dream recently, Garrus." Liara's voice startled him from his musings, and he raised his head to meet her too-calm gaze. "I dreamed of a future where you and Shepard had a home together."

"That's not an interesting dream, Liara. That's pretty much a given at this point." He settled back in his chair and crossed his arms, regarding her with smug blue eyes.

Her eyes held a certain smugness of their own. "You did not let me finish. The interesting part was Shepard's condition in the dream. She was pregnant, and from the way you kept stroking her stomach, I presumed the child she carried was yours."

Garrus went very still. Asari were not known for having precognitive dreams, but... "You're just being mean. There's no way I could ever get Julia pregnant. I'm a dextro, remember?"

"I'm fully aware of your biological makeup. However, I do not think that dream to be so impossible. According to the data Mordin collected from the two of you, neither of you have an allergy to the differing amino bases. Without the allergy, there are possibilities."

"That is right. One of my old shipmates from the _Neema_ fell in love with a human woman named Tahnya during his Pilgrimage. Jen'Tavor brought her back to the Fleet with him long enough for her to meet his family, and then they went back to her home on the Citadel. Last I heard of Jen, they were speaking with fertility specialists at Huerta." Tali tilted her head to the side, tapping one finger against her arm in thought. "I remember he said the doctors thought their chances were not small. It just required some genetic engineering."

"What do you mean?" Garrus asked, eyeing the little quarian curiously.

"I mean, some eggs would be removed from Shepard, and then they would give you a little jar. You would go somewhere private, and then - "

"Tali!" Liara protested, her cheeks flushed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I meant a _big_ jar. Girls do talk, you know." He could hear the laughter in her voice. Who had told Tali that little tidbit about turians? If it was Julia, he was going to have words with her.

"We know how artificial insemination works. We don't need to know the entire process." Liara's face was so dark, she looked like those plum fruits Gardner had kept in the mess before Kasumi came aboard. "Garrus, if you want to find any fertility specialists, just let me know. I can find you the best in the galaxy."

He smirked. Liara had never quite gotten accustomed to the physical aspects of his and Julia's relationship. The emotional, she handled with no difficulty. Whenever she caught them holding each other in the elevator, or more particularly that time she had found them making out in the Main Battery, she always stammered some excuse and fled.

Then again, perhaps it made sense that Liara would be so uncomfortable with the hard reality of their relationship. Garrus knew she would never act upon it, but he was certain that the young asari had some degree of crush on Julia. They were only friends, and would never be anything more. Still, most people would not risk both the Collectors and the Shadow Broker, to say nothing of opening negociations with Cerberus, for the astronomically small chance to bring a lost comrade back from the dead. That was the sort of thing only somebody with no small amount of love would do for the other. He was eternally grateful to the asari for her part in resurrecting Julia, and part of that gratitude meant that he did not act upon his knowledge of her affection for his girlfriend.

Besides, he had no worries about Julia being stolen away by any blue-skinned babes. He had it from her own black-stained lips that she had no interest in female partners. She needed a male presence in her life, somebody who could occasionally remind her that she was, in fact, female herself. She had confided once that she sometimes forgot that she was a woman, until something returned that knowledge to the forefront of her mind. Usually that reminder involved natural biological functions of a fairly messy and inconvenient variety, and a great deal of padding during those times. Sometimes she forgot until something brought her attention to her breasts, such as the time she had gotten shot in the right one during a skirmish with Eclipse mechs. That had been a particularly awkward few days, as she had been under strict orders from Dr. Chakwas to take it easy until the wound healed. Julia had spent most of her time in the Main Battery with him, and every time he had glanced at her, he had caught sight of the gauze pad taped against her skin, silhouetted by her light tank top. Garrus had just started to realize that he found her attractive, so he had avoided making eye contact as much as possible until the gauze was removed.

He made her feel like the woman she was. He was bigger than her, and nothing about him was at all gender-ambiguous. In the beginning he had been a bit apprehensive about the difference in their heights, irrationally more so than their differing species; she had reassured him that she enjoyed being a good foot shorter than him. Whenever he held her, or pulled her close, or just stood next to her, she felt safe. That had never been the case with any of her previous relationships; usually, she was the one making the other participant feel secure. In this little liaison, Garrus acknowledged with a private smirk, the tables were turned. She liked that.

"At some point, I'm sure I'll take you up on that offer, Liara. We want kids, and it would be great if we could have them ourselves, no surrogates or donors required." That would also forestall any awkwardness between his lover, Kaidan, and Tali if they were to actually admit their mutual attraction and get together. He exhaled slowly and looked back to Julia's comatose body, letting his gaze roam across her. "Of course, that involves her waking up first. Not much fun trying for a baby when one of us is completely out of it."

Tali laughed. "Plus you'd give the orderlies a heart attack if they interrupted you. I doubt any of them have seen anything other than a human naked."

"If I didn't know better, Tali, I'd say you have a secret desire to see me naked," he teased. "After all, you keep bringing that up whenever you come visit."

"Even if I did, totally not worth it. Shepard would strangle me the moment she woke up. Knowing her, she would choose the moment I start tearing off your clothes to open her eyes."

"Fastest adrenaline rush in all of galactic history, that would be," he chuckled.

Liara giggled. "You realize that once she's finished with Tali, she would come after you, Garrus."

"Which would only make the orderlies panic that much more, so let's not go there."

"I don't think sending them into a frenzy is Shepard's style," Tali interrupted, putting her datapad aside. She leaned back in her chair, interlocking her fingers and lowering her head in a very good approximation of a human plotting something. "Kaidan told me she's like him when she's in a hospital. Likes to make trouble for the nurses. He says they got drunk together once, and she told him about a number of pranks she pulled on hospital staff during her stay in one after the Skyllian Blitz. Wouldn't give me any details, but apparently she liked to drive them crazy with misplaced items."

"That doesn't sound like Shepard," Liara said, blinking.

"You've never seen her bored, have you?" Garrus smiled, remembering some of the little tricks she had arranged for various members of the Cerberus crew. His favorite was still the smoke bomb she had put in Gardner's stock. It had taken half a day to clear out the crimson smoke, and the mess had smelled like a bonfire for weeks afterward. But the expression on Gardner's face had been worth the little inconveniences, especially since he had incurred Julia's wrath by passing commentary on her growing closeness to Garrus. He had meant it in the spirit of friendly ribbing, so she had replied in kind with a homegrown smoke bomb. Little jokes such as that one had been directly responsible for most of the crew adoring her, and others abandoning her the moment they had finished the Collector mission.

"I can't say I've ever had the opportunity to behold her boredom. When we were still on the original _Normandy_, Shepard was the epitome of professionalism." Tali nodded her agreement with Liara's statement, a far tinier movement than most humans would have used. It was not usually a part of quarian body language.

Garrus could not help smiling. "She saved her mischevious moments for me and Wrex, I think. After she was brought back, it expanded to the rest of the crew. Especially Joker. For awhile she had this uncanny knack for stealing his hat and leaving it in the oddest places." Many had been the times she had wandered down to the SR-1's cargo hold and started trading jokes with him, or engaging him in a string of puns. One of them would speak a topic, and all sentences would contain some sort of pun related to that subject. Some of them had been bad enough to drive Wrex up to the higher decks, all the while complaining that their terrible jokes were making his ears bleed. Then there were the prank wars, such as the time she had attached a novelty VI to his assault rife. Every time he squeezed off a shot, the gunfire had been accompanied by a long, drawn-out raspberry. Of course, he had retaliated by rigging a remote temperature control module to her armor. One press of a button, and she would go from being perfectly comfortable to either sweating buckets or shivering so hard her teeth chattered.

Inevitably the pranks would end with the two of them sparring in the shuttle bay, playfully insulting each other while trading punches. The occasion that stood out in his memory was a match that ended with Julia sandwiched between a bulkhead and his body, her legs wrapped around his hips and his hands pinning her wrists up by her head. The blatant intimacy of the hold had surprised both of them; with one minute twitch of her hips, he had been absolutely aware that her most private of areas was mere inches from his, that their faces were separated by only a hairsbreadth. If that hold had come about two years later, the match would have ended much like the one he had described to Julia in the Main Battery. As it was, Garrus remembered the feel of her legs sliding down the length of his to rest on the floor, and the surprising disappointment that had risen when she drew away. Back then, he would never have dreamed that she might be interested. Remembering it now, he could recognize it as the moment sexual tension had initially sparked between them. He had no idea when he had fallen in love with her, but that was the instant he had started to want her, whether he had realized it or not.

"He's got that look in his eye again. I bet I know what he's thinking." Tali's soprano purr drew him from his thoughts, making him regard the little quarian with curiosity.

"What look?"

"Whenever you start thinking about Shepard, you get this soft expression in your eyes," Liara explained. "It's as though she's all that exists for you, and you don't see anything else."

"You also go silent for a while. That part makes it easy to tell that you're remembering something good about her. Usually, you can't shut up." Tali stood up and stretched her back, reaching high above her head. "C'mon, Liara. Let's give Lover Boy some time alone."

"'Lover Boy'? Is that really the best you can do, Tali?" he called after the departing duo.

"Vega has a monopoly on the Scars moniker. If I use it, I have to pay a toll." Tali threw him a wave as she left, followed closely by Liara. "Let us know if something changes."

"You know I will." He ignored the soft hiss of the closing door, turning his attention back to the woman on the bed. She hadn't moved much during their discussion, no more than what was becoming her usual amount of random muscle twitches. The doctors thought the movements were due to her brain figuring out how to work itself again, as though the explosion that had killed the Reapers had jarred the connections loose. They were optimistic that, in time, she would wake up. Simple reflexes were the first step in recovering full neurological functionality, they claimed. Garrus hoped they were right. He really didn't want to spend the rest of his life waiting for a twitching, slightly convulsive shadow of the woman he loved to wake up.

After watching the sheets ripple around her toes and fingers for a bit, he returned his attention to his omni-tool. He had plenty of work to keep himself busy, but there was one task he used to keep himself sane. He wanted to find a good place, a home where they could rebuild their lives and retire into obscurity. Neither Earth nor Palaven were really good choices for permanent residences, although he might be able to talk Julia into setting up little getaways on both of their home planets. He was considering Rannoch as a possible choice; given that both the quarians and the remaining geth owed his girlfriend some major favors, it might be feasible for them to set up a home not all that far from Tali's future beach-front property.

Assuming Julia would be of a similar mind, the sort of permanent residence he was seeking had to meet certain criteria. It would be better if it was not heavily populated, so that struck Illium off the list, as well as most major cities. But there had to be enough people around for them to get the supplies they might need, and support both dextros and levos, at least marginally. The other check that required filling was a decided lack of bad memories and associations. That meant planets such as Eden Prime, Horizon, and Thessia had long since been removed from the list. All were capable of becoming comfortable for both of them, but neither Garrus nor Julia would ever be able to look around without remembering something awful. That left worlds they had not explored since the first hint about the Reapers, planets neither of them had ever visited, and locales where they were owed great dues. Rannoch was at the forefront of that column, followed by Tuchanka. The latter might be a bit awkward, considering the turians' role in the genophage, but with the cure dispersed and already in effect, Wrex and Bakara might be able to get most of the krogan to leave Garrus alone. Julia would enjoy helping the krogan rebuild their homeworld, especially if it meant arguing the merits of self-control versus random bloodlust with the Urdnot Shaman again. Just like the quarians and geth, the hulking warriors owed much to Julia, including the very future of their race.

Garrus thoughtfully tapped his forefinger against his wrist for a moment, then scratched Tuchanka off the list. However much the krogan owed his lover, they would have to find another way to render their thanks. Tuchanka was a levo world and the krogan would be very uncooperative about securing dextro-based food. Unless he wanted to eat nutrient paste for the rest of his life, the nearly-ruined planet was not a viable choice.

"Where are we supposed to live?" he wondered aloud. "Palaven's no good for you, and Earth isn't very dextro-friendly. We can't exactly hijack the _Normandy _and fly off into the wild black yonder, not if we expect to try for kids. She's a great ship, one of the best, but that's no place to raise a family."

He frowned down at his list of potential planets, and considered that perhaps they should find a little moon somewhere and start fresh. It was going to be interesting, acclimatizing to civilian life after the Reaper invasion. He wanted to do so without the constraints of position and responsibility, at least as far as the Heirarchy was concerned. He was still a few names down from being Victus' successor, but it was still too close for comfort. Julia always told him that he was a better leader than he believed, and he could only reiterate that his leadership had resulted in his squad getting slaughtered. To which she would counter that he did a fine job leading his task force and his group on the Collector homeworld, and had Sidonis not betrayed them, there would likely have been a whole group of killers and specialists willing to follow him through the Omega-4 Relay, even as he followed her.

"...rus..."

The tiny sound jolted his heart into the FTL range, and he snapped his wide gaze to his lover's face. She had not moved, but... There, her eyes had changed. Now there was the slightest hint of brilliant green peeking from beneath her long lashes, rolled slightly in his direction.

"Julia?" He came forward, took her limp hand in his. Felt a definite, albeit slight, contraction in the muscles of her fingers. "Julia, can you hear me?"

"Garrrrussss..." whistled past her ripe black lips, as if she was testing the sound of his name, getting used to the feel of it upon her tongue once more. Her eyes cracked the tiniest bit more open, revealing more of the living emeralds he had missed so much.

He resisted the urge to thumb back her eyelids himself. She was alive, and now she was awake. The doctors had been right after all. "Thank the Spirits," he sighed. His free hand rose to cup her face, smoothing his thumb along the sharp line of her cheekbone. "I had thought you were never going to wake up."

"Cudden leave you," she whispered, squeezing his fingers a bit harder. Her head tilted more firmly against his palm, and more green could be viewed. "Reeeaperrs?"

"They're gone, Julia. We won. I don't know how you did it, but you beat them. They're gone forever."

The faintest of smiles curved her lips, a shadow of the sly grin that he so adored. "Peeeace. Tha'll take some gedding yooosed tooo."

"Sounds like you need to get used to talking again. You have been out of it for a week or two. But shouldn't you have a better grasp of language than this, O Great Diplomat?"

"Fuck you, Garrruss," she slowly quipped, a little more clearly than she had spoken before. The curve of her lips remained, and her eyes finally managed to fully open. Something in his chest tightened when he saw how clear her gaze was, that the woman he loved so much was still in those eyes. She was there, and she remembered him.

"Not yet," he murmured, smiling big enough for both of them. He leaned down to press his mouth against hers gently, stroking along the silver fuzz growing over the bald patches on her scalp. "You need to get your strength back first."

When he pulled back, her lips had quirked into a deeper curve. "Loooking forward tooo it."


End file.
